


By Any Other Name

by annmacbain



Series: By Any Other Name [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: At Least he Will Be, But Not Innocent, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, It will all make sense I promise, John is Moriarty, Longer Story to Come, Prologue, Richard Brook Was Real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3341729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annmacbain/pseuds/annmacbain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wanted to break the clock.<br/>Smash it into the wall.<br/>Then he would slit their throats...<br/>...And then his own.</p><p>Where did Moriarty really get his start?</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick

The ticking

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The never-ending ticking

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

It marked the passage of time.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick

The seconds adding on to one another, keeping record of how much longer he had to live.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

It acted as a constant reminder that the world was moving on without him while he sat there; rotting away.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

He wanted to break the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Smash it into the wall.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

As the orderlies and his personal psychiatrist hoping to write a best seller book on him rushed towards him, he would pick up some of the shards of glass.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Then he would slit their throats...

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

...and then his own.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Too bad the straight jacket and drugs prevented him from doing so.

Ignoring the clock and putting aside his pleasant daydreams for the time being, he started looking around at his fellow inmates once again. They were all disgusting: drool coming out of their mouths and into their laps, eyes glassy with incomprehension, and their nails grimy and full of skin, sweat, dirt, and bits of blood from when they broke the skin scratching themselves senseless. Most of them had been here for years.

He didn’t belong here.

He didn’t belong with these animals. He belonged outside in the fresh air with his mind clear, alert, and able to feed any idiot he came across with their own intestines. He was going insane in here.

Well, he giggled to himself, that ship had sailed a loooong time ago.

Suddenly, there was movement in the corner of his eye as someone new entered the room. New orderly. Short for his age; approximately 5"6'. Blond. Mid to late twenties. Boring. As the new orderly briefly scanned the room, Blondie's eyes fell and stayed on him as he began making his way over. He didn't really want to talk to anyone right now, but the staff didn't normally let him at the new meat until they'd been there for six or more months. At least it would give him something to do.

Blondie sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the table he'd been sitting at. Before he could decide whether or not he would go for the eyes or the nose the orderly spoke up, asking, "I take it you're the one all the orderlies here have un-affectionately taken to calling 'Bitey'?"

Putting off his attack for now, Bitey leaned back and gave the newbie a nasty grin. "I see that they did warn you about me. They don’t normally let the younglings talk to nasty little me."

Blondie raised an eyebrow at that. "Youngling? Pretty sure I'm at least ten years older than you. Besides, I'm sure that I can hold my own against someone in a straight jacket."

"Oh, are you now?" Leaning forward suddenly and snarling at Blondie, Bitey began talking with vehemence, spittle spraying out of his mouth. "You may be older than me Blondie, but don't think for one second that I couldn't rip your throat out using only my teeth right now. In fact, give me five minutes without these restraints and I could have you chewing your own arm off!" Sitting back and smiling pleasantly, Bitey continued as if he had never threatened the orderly. "Your depressingly low intellect would make it laughably easy."

"What do you mean, ‘low intellect’?"

Bitey froze. There was something in Blondie's voice that had changed. It was just off, somehow; almost kind, but lower than it was at first and, paradoxically, incredibly threatening. Focusing on the orderly again, Bitey started to look at him. He really, really looked.

His hair was cut short and neat. His shoulders straight, and his eyes a dark shade of blue that almost looked brown. The temporary shadow he was allowing on his face let Bitey know that this man was incredibly lethal and, quite possibly, unhinged. Bitey was suddenly less sure that he could take this man; even if he hadn't been restrained. What was this man doing here? Who was this…

"You're not Dr. Fitzhugh."

Glancing down at the stolen name tag on his chest, Not-Dr. Fitzhugh slid a kinder mask back on his face and relaxed back into his chair. "No. No, I most certainly am not. Good thing too, seeing as how he’s dead and all.” He continued, ignoring the brief look of shock/eagerness in the other man’s eyes. “Though, I was hoping you would spot that sooner, what with your 'superior intellect'."

Flushing with anger (and most certainly NOT embarrassment), Bitey leaned forwards to snarl a nasty remark, but Blondie started speaking again before spittle could start flying.

"Oh, don't get so uptight,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It was just a joke. I know what the drugs are doing to your poor, brilliant mind." Blondie leaned forward, acting as though he was about to share a secret. "They're killing you in here, aren't they? They're slowly killing you with drugs and restraints. Draining the life out of you. But me?" Blondie leaned forward even more so he could whisper in his ear, "I want to rescue you."

Bitey pulled back looking suspicious. "What do you mean, rescue me? And why?"

Blondie smiled and finally leaned back, saying, "Tell you what. I will tell you what happened to your personal physician and answer all of your other questions, if you can tell me why you're in here. Deal?"

Glaring petulantly, Bitey finally nodded. "Deal. I'm in here because I killed someone."

"Wrong."

Startled, Bitey asked incredulously, “What do you mean, wrong?”

“I mean you’re wrong. Try again until you’ve got the right answer.

If Bitey hadn’t been so intrigued by this exchange, he probably would have bit the man’s face off right then. "Fine,” he said, the words forcing themselves out between clenched teeth. “I'm in here because of how I killed someone."

"Wrong."

Glaring, Bitey gave a smile that was all teeth. "I'm in here because I murdered my eighteen year old class mate, carved flowers into her skin, and mutilated her face so badly she had to be identified by her dental records."

"Wrong."

"I got too creative."

Sighing, Blondie actually looked slightly disappointed. "Wrong. If you thought that that was creative, then maybe I was wrong about you."

Bitey hissed, "I lost my temper."

"Still wrong, but you are getting closer."

Pausing to think, and trying to keep the desire to kill the man in front of him, Bitey began pouting petulantly. What more did he want?

Sighing as he leaned back, Blondie gave him a pitying look. "Do you need me to tell you?" Taking Bitey's continued silence as a yes, Blondie continued. "You're in here because you got caught.”

For a minute Bitey didn’t move. Suddenly, he burst out laughing. Tears were streaming down his eyes, his sides aching, when he was finally able to calm himself enough to speak again. “Oh, that’s a good one. Even though I didn’t get it right, can I still get answers to my questions?”

Blondie smiled jovially, looking almost… cuddly. Who was this man? “I suppose it was rather a bit of a trick question. Very well. You see, I run a kind of… business. Occasionally, some of my business and/or hobbies take my attention away from my other clients. Unfortunately,” he chuckled, “not many people can fill my position while I’m away. I do so hat to miss out on good business deals, and about a month ago I came up with a wonderful solution: why don’t I get an assistant? Oh, don’t look at me like that. You wouldn’t be fetching me tea and coffee, though that would be nice. No, you would be in the thick of everything, helping me help my clients, making sure everyone is happy, and that no one screws me over.”

“So,” he said with a wink. “Your mission, if you choose to accept it. I will break you out of this miserable, life-draining hole if you will allow me to train and use you. You will get to exercise that beautiful mind of yours, and for the most part be free to do whatever you wish. No meds, only one or two minders, and the opportunity of a lifetime. What do you say?”

Suspicious, Bitey sat and though for a moment. “What exactly do you do with this business?”

Blondie looked like a teacher when one of their dullest students made a clever point. “I am so glad you asked! You see, I’m a… paid advisor, of sorts. I take normal, boring people with little brains and little problems, and help them make everything exciting! Oh, I don’t actually care about them. But the money’s nice, and the work is just all sorts of fun!

Blondie scooted his chair forwards, a manic smile on his face as he did so. “What do you say? A once in a lifetime opportunity for exciting and deadly danger, or staying here until your brain rots and starts coming out of your nose?”

Bitey only hesitated for a second. What did he have to lose? “Deal.”

 

When they were driving away from the institution only an hour later, Bitey began to laughing. Blondie gave him a questioning look.

“What’s so funny?

Grinning from ear to ear like the maniac he was, Bitey said, “You just broke me out of a mental institution for the criminally insane, offered me a high paying job, and I accepted without ever bothering to ask your name!”

The other man gave a small chuckle. “Well, I suppose introductions are in order. My name is James Moriarty. Welcome aboard, Mr. Brook.”

Richard looked ahead and out of the window. He was going to have such fun.


End file.
